Mass Effect: Galaxy On Fire
by TheShredDoctor
Summary: AU. Shepard, haunted by his actions on Torfan and disillusioned with military life, resigns from the Alliance in order to make up for his mistakes. Tali, eager to prove herself to the Admiralty, is sent on a diplomatic mission to Earth. When the galaxy around them suddenly erupts into war, they find themselves tangled in events that run far deeper than they imagined.
1. Chapter 1: New Beginnings

**Note: This is an AU (alternate universe) story, meaning that it is set in a different universe than the canonical Mass Effect series. If something is stated that is contradictory to the official Mass Effect games, even something such as a codex entry, it is likely intentional.**

**The reapers, and anything related to them, will not be appearing in this story. This fanfics centers around the interactions of the individuals and races of Mass Effect, and has actual people as the antagonists, with real emotions, rather than big scary robot aliens. Don't get me wrong, I love the conflict between the organics and the reapers, it's just I wanted to make something where the bad guys were something tangible and relatable to real life.**

**It's easy to forget that in history, the villains were never monsters or supernatural beings that were inherently evil, but rather real people who chose to follow a particular path because they truly believed that they were doing the right thing. That, in my opinion, is scarier than any reaper invasion could ever be.**

**Also, to any readers of my Illusionist story, please note that I do in fact plan on posting the next chapter as soon as it's ready. I just sometimes need a break from writing one story, and need to shift gears in order to keep ideas fresh.**

**Anyways, on to the story:**

0-0-0-0-0

"The newest addition to the Alliance fleet, the SSV Istanbul, was recently seen docking at Arcturus station after it's week-long tour of duty in the Exodus Cluster, showing signs of battle-,"

"-We now welcome Mathias Kroner, author of 'Defending The Verge' to the studio, to give his opinion on the escalating tensions with the Hegemony-,"

"-Traffic to Eden Prime over the past ten weeks has decreased by over 34%, while Horizon has experienced an overwhelming 77% drop. Many colonists in the verge are fearing for the worst as-,"

"-John Shepard, a man hailed as a hero amongst Alliance soldiers, was awarded the Star of Terra for his heroic action on the planet of Torfan. In an unexpected turn of events, Shepard resigned from the Alliance military earlier this month, soon after being offered a promotion to the rank of Commander. Rear Admiral Mikhailovich refused to comment-,"

**BANG!**

A burst of sparks lit up the shadowy marketplace as a mass accelerator round shattered the screen of an Alliance News terminal. A few shoppers briefly turned their heads to look at the human who had fired at the terminal, before simply shrugging at the action. Most simply ignored it and carried on with their day as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Gunfire, after all, was not an uncommon sound on Omega.

"Hey! That's coming out of your pocket!" shouted a gruff batarian voice, as a small group of armed mercenaries pushed their way through the crowded market towards the damaged console. They carefully approached the human who stood before the destroyed screen, pistol aimed at the sparking crater his bullet had left.

"Yeah, yeah," the human replied non-chalantly, holstering his pistol and tossing a credit chit to the batarian who had addressed him.

The batarian deftly caught the credit chit in one hand, keeping his weapon steadily trained on the now unarmed individual. "Uh-uh, not good enough this time," He said, "That's the third terminal you've shot this week. You're coming to see Aria."

"Second," The human corrected with a weak smirk, "one of those, I punched."

"Same thing. You're losing us money," The Batarian growled, roughly shoving the human, forcing him to march forwards. "Besides, Aria said she wanted to speak to you personally about something."

That caught the human off-guard. He paused in his tracks for a few seconds, only to have the muzzle of a gun harshly thrust between his shoulder blades. "Yeah, yeah, I'm walking," The human muttered, picking his pace back up. "Why would Aria want to see me?"

The Batarian shrugged. "I'm not paid to know what Aria's thinking. But I do know she takes notice when anyone worthy of notice arrives on Omega. Including you, Commander Shepard."

The human guffawed. "Ex-Commander," he murmured, "Heh, actually, I resigned without accepting the promotion, so I don't even have that title."

None of the mercenaries surrounding him seemed to take pay him any further attention as they pushed past the crowd in the direction of the bright neon lights that illuminated the exterior of the ever-popular Afterlife nightclub.

Silently, his armed entourage led Shepard to the back of the nightclub, drawing stares from a few of the less inebriated occupants of the room. Ignoring the gawking, the former Alliance soldier allowed himself to be led up a flight of stairs to a private booth which overlooked the club.

Around the booth, several armed guards stood sentry; batarians, turians, asari, even a human. They all stood rigid, training a careful gaze on Shepard as he approached.

The former soldier suddenly found himself being pushed forwards, towards the sole occupant of the booth who was both seated, and unarmed. An asari leaned casually back on a sectional couch before Shepard; her cool gaze piercing into his.

"So you're Aria," Shepard said, focusing his attention on the asari. "I thought you'd be taller."

At his address, the asari quirked a brow; the faintest hint of a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "You know of me?" She asked, with an almost acerbic tone in her voice, "Good. Then we can skip the greetings and pleasantries."

She waved a hand, gesturing to an empty spot on the couch. Shepard understood the gesture perfectly. It wasn't a friendly offer, or a polite suggestion; it was a forceful demand. Not willing to piss off his host and her armed guards, Shepard took a seat.

Silence enveloped the booth, as Aria, who had conjured a digital data pad in her hands, focused all her attention on the screen before her. Shepard quickly recognized this as a test; she wanted to see if he'd make the first move. Shepard, as always, was not one to disappoint.

"So, I hear you wanted to speak to me about something," he asked, breaking the awkward silence that had formed.

"Someone with your... abilities doesn't escape my notice Shepard, especially not on Omega," She began, "And I find myself needing someone with your abilities."

"Ah, I see where this is going," Shepard said, slowly rising to his feet, "This is a recruitment thing. No thanks, I just got out of the line of fire; I'm not going back in. Especially not for such, er, illicit activities that you and your goons take part in."

"Sit down, Shepard!" Aria ordered forcefully, allowing her biotics to flare for effect. She watched as the ex-soldier slowly sank back into the couch before continuing, fixing him with a hard stare as she did so. "Do not take me and my men for two-bit thugs. I run the largest pirate ring in the terminus systems. And despite what you may think, we aren't so bad. We raid slavers, smugglers, and all kinds of criminals. Out here in the Terminus, nobody is innocent."

Shepard scoffed, "Don't try to sell yourself as some kind of saint."

Aria smirked in response. "Saint? No. I'm the biggest sinner on this station, and I'll be the first to admit it. But my information network tells me I'm not the only sinner here. I know what happened on Torfan; it wasn't just a pirate hide-out, was it?"

"If you know that," Sheppard gritted out, ignoring the nightmarish memories that threatened to flood his head from the mere mention of that cursed planet, "Then why would you think I'd want to add to my list of things that will forever haunt me?"

"I think I have an offer that you can't refuse," Aria replied simply. "I have a task force that specifically hunts slaver ships. You can make amends for what you've done by helping those poor, poor souls, forced into slavery against their wills," she nearly purred.

Shepard growled. "Stop fucking around, Aria! I know you have no interest in freeing slaves. What's the catch?"

Aria leaned back in her seat, giving her PDA a glance before continuing. "Six shots of whiskey, five shots of bourbon, and seventeen shots of batarian behrohl."

Shepard cocked his head. "And... is that supposed to mean something to me?" he asked.

Aria chuckled mirthlessly. "It should, although I don't blame you for not remembering. That was your bar tab from last night. I've never seen anyone take that many shots of bherohl in one night. Your attempt to woo one of our strippers afterwards was quite amusing, even watching from up here."

"Is there a point to all this?" the human asked with a scowl. "If I didn't pay it off, I can do that now. I have more than enough money."

The asari smirked. "No, you paid your tab, just like you do every night. That's one of the things I like about you Shepard; you're reliable when you owe money, even when you're piss-drunk. You're a steady source of income here.

"Every night, you drop a few thousand credits on alcohol, a few thousand more on lap dances, and every morning, you wake up in a gutter somewhere. Every night, the cycle repeats, without fail; every night since you arrived on Omega."

Shepard clenched his jaw. "I'm not looking for a life councillor. I don't need you, of all people to tell me how messed up I am. Believe me, I already know. Besides; what's it to you? You've already said I'm a reliable source of income. That's all you care about, money, isn't it?" was his scathing retort.

Aria shook her head sadly. "You're right; I do only care about the money. I don't give a damn about your wellbeing; I am worried I'll lose a sizable chunk of cash flow from my club.

"Sure, for now you fill my pockets, but that's not going to last. You'll eventually either run out of money, and live as a scavenger on the street, or drink yourself into a coma. Neither option looks very bright for either of us. So, I offer you a third path; one that is much more pleasant for us both.

"You work for me, putting those skills you picked up in that N7 program of yours to use to track down and capture slaver ships that have wandered too far into my territory. You free slaves; I get to sell off the ships you capture. It's a win-win for both of us." Aria said smoothly.

She produced a small, laminated card from within one of her jacket's pockets and tossed it into Shepard's lap. "Docking bay E-10. That's your security clearance. Be there at 0800 hours tomorrow if you want in. Or, you could spend another night here, drowning your sorrows in booze and strippers. Your choice."

0-0-0-0-0

The mechanical door to the engine room slid open to admit a new occupant, briefly letting some ambient light from the hall to filter in, illuminating the room, before the door slid shut with a hiss.

Tali squinted at the circuitry she had been soldering together, trying to make out the individual wires in the relative darkness. Normally, she'd use the flashlight on her omni-tool, but as Boli'Vix was using it, and as his work patching a fuel line was more important, she was left fumbling in the dark.

It was all so annoying, but between the Rayya being such an old ship, and the migrant fleet having very little in the way of spare parts, the aged circuit breakers in the Rayya's engine room couldn't handle the strain of supporting both the engines _and_ the lights. Logically, it was decided that the engines were more important to keep running than the lights.

"-That's the third time in the past two months. Do you think they'll ever try attacking the flotilla directly?"

That snippet of conversation caught Tali's attention. _Attack the flotilla? Who would do that?_ She wondered to herself. She hadn't heard her father mention anything about any attacks, and he would tell her if the migrant fleet was in danger. _ Wouldn't he?_

"-Damn batarians. I hear they're giving the humans no end of trouble as well," She managed to overhear as she strained her ears.

_Humans? _

Although it had been before she was born, Tali had heard plenty about what the turians called the Relay 314 incident. The humans, a species that was completely new to the galactic stage, had engaged turian forces and had subsequently driven them back.

Although it had left a sour taste in the mouths of the citadel races, the quarians had secretly admired the humans. It had been the turians who led the opposition against aiding the quarians during their exodus from their home systems, and many quarians still resented them for that.

Many quarians, though they'd never publicly admit it, had reveled in the fact that there had been some race that was willing to stand up to the military strong-arm of the galactic council. Of course, it had all ended when the asari stepped in and forcibly ceased hostilities. The humans had opened up an embassy in the citadel, and although they stayed on the outskirts of citadel politics, they never showed any open aggression to the turians again.

The batarians were a different matter, however. While the turians gave the quarians a general hard time, sticking them with red-tape whenever so much as a single quarian shuttle attempted to enter citadel space, the batarians actually led active raids against the flotilla's scouting fleets. According to all the news broadcasts from Alliance space, the batarians were hitting the humans even harder; going so far as to attack their colonies.

"-With the admiralty right now. You think it's possible?" Tali snapped out of her reverie, turning her attention back to the conversation she had been eavesdropping on. Apparently she had missed a lot. _Who was with the admirals? What did they have to do with humans or batarians? _

"When I was on my pilgrimage, I met one. She had bits of metal sticking into her face!"

"Metal, sticking in her face?"

"Yeah, just stabbed right through her skin, just because she thought it looked good. And she was wearing the skin of a dead animal."

"Wearing dead animals? That sounds absolutely barbaric!"

Tali found herself agreeing with that last statement, though she wasn't quite sure what the topic of their conversation had switched to. Batarians? Krogans? Likely one of the two, as they were the only two races she knew of that were brutal enough to enjoy such things. She finally decided on krogans, as the conversation switched to some form of music that involved guttural growling accompanied by some instrument called a 'guitar'.

Eventually, Tali grew bored of eavesdropping and focused her attention back on the circuitry in her hands. Methodically, she fused the little filaments of metal together, careful to make sure she used just the right amount of lead-aluminum alloy to solder each connection.

The circuitry she was working with was extremely old and delicate, marred by indications of past, less than perfect, soldering jobs. It was a task that for most engineers would be difficult, and in the light Tali had, it would have been near impossible, if it wasn't for the fact that she wasn't most engineers.

Finally, Tali managed to set the circuitry down, smiling to herself in satisfaction at her work. Casting a glance at the now nearly empty room behind her, Tali was suddenly made aware of how late it must be getting. She silently cursed when she noticed that Boli wasn't there anymore. He must have left without remembering to return her omni-tool.

_Oh well_, she mentally shrugged, deciding she'd ask for it back the next day. Picking herself up from the squatting position she had been in as she worked, she suddenly felt the pins-and-needles sensation of blood flow returning to her lower legs.

Stumbling awkwardly until feeling returned to her calves, Tali made her way to the door leading out of the engine room. The door slid open with a swoosh, only for Tali to suddenly find herself staring into a pair of sapphire-blue eyes.

"Oh, hello," came a cheerful, feminine voice.

Rather than reply, as was the polite thing to do; Tali stood gawking at the person standing before her. Onyx black curls of hair pooled down from the individual's head, coming to rest on their shoulders. Their lips and nose were visible behind a transparent breather mask that covered the lower half of their face. A tight fitting black and white uniform clung to (what Tali assumed, based on quarian standards, was) their very feminine form.

Remembering back to all the vids and pictures she had seen, Tali realized that she was currently standing face-to-face with a human. Here, on the Rayya.

"Um... hi," Was all Tali was able to stutter dumbly.

That was when a pair of quarians appeared over the human's shoulder. "Operative Lawson, is everything... oh, hello Tali."

"Hello, father," Tali murmured, suddenly feeling very self-conscientious as she looked between her father, the human, and the other quarian who she was able to immediately place as being Admiral Zaal'Koris.

"Tali'Zorah?" The human piped up, "I've heard quite a bit about you. Admiral Shala'Raan spoke very highly of you. Admirals Daro'Xen and Han'Gerrel both mentioned your considerable skill in engineering. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

Despite her confusion at the sudden appearance of this alien on the flotilla, Tali managed to feel a pang of sadness upon hearing that her father was not included in the list of people who had praised her so openly.

"Er... pleased to meet you, too." Tali managed to reply.

"We were just about to give Operative Lawson a tour of the Rayya's engines," Koris said evenly, "Perhaps you'd be willing to join us, to answer any technical questions we might not be able to."

Shakily, Tali nodded her head before nervously shuffling to the side to allow the other three individuals to pass through the door.

"Well, this is the engine room," Tali said, gesturing around them. Immediately, she wished she could smack herself for saying something so obvious.

Operative Lawson, however seemed to drink in her words as if they had been something truly insightful. "Fascinating!" She exclaimed, casting her gaze around the dimly lit compartment. "Just how old are the Rayya' engines?"

"Same age as the ship," Tali's father replied, standing stiffly with his arms held rigidly behind his back. "And the Rayya dates back to the original evacuation from the home world."

The human whistled. "Over three centuries old, and still running; amazing. The oldest ship in the Alliance fleet isn't even thirty, and we're close to retiring her."

"It's all thanks to brilliant mechanics like Tali," A new voice said from behind the small group.

Four heads immediately turned to face another quarian, whose suit was covered by so many grease stains, it was almost completely black.

"Operative Lawson, this is Taar'Dis vas Rayya," said Rael'Zorah, gesturing to the new quarian. "He is the lead engineer here on the Rayya. No one knows more about her systems than him."

_Of course_, Tali inwardly growled, _as soon as it's my time to shine, my father passes me over for someone else. _Although, and she'd never admit it, she was secretly glad she was no longer in the spot light. She had been failing spectacularly beforehand.

The lead engineer chuckled lightly, "Tali here might be passing me in that respect very soon. You should see what she did today," he replied, holding up a familiar piece of circuitry, "If we weren't so desperate for parts, I might have put this in a display case and sold it to a museum. This here; this is art."

The human decided to take a closer look at Tali's handiwork. "This looks almost like kind of model that T'Kira Fabrications used to produce," She said with interest.

"Ah, good eye," the elder engineer replied jovially, "That's because it is a T'Kira Fabrications model."

The operative gasped in shock. "Alliance safety regulations state that any circuitry involved with an eezo drive-core will wear out and be rendered useless within five years," she stated; her eyes wide. "T'Kira Fabrications went out of business nearly forty years ago!"

"The wearing out is caused by the rapid oxidization of the metals due to exposure to the eezo," Tali explained passionately. "You can counteract the oxidization using an aluminum-based metal in the..." the young quarian trailed off mid-sentence upon noticing that everyone's eyes were focused on her. "Er, sorry," she murmured, fixing her gaze on her three-toed feet, silently willing everyone to cast their gaze elsewhere.

"Oh, not at all," the human said brightly, causing Tali to jerk her head up in surprise. "I actually think it's rather interesting," the operative explained, "in fact, I'd love to see some more of your work."

"Unfortunately, it will have to wait," Rael'Zorah interjected, cutting his daughter off from replying. "Your superiors gave us a rather strict schedule, and we're running low on time, Operative Lawson. We really must be carrying on."

Looking slightly disappointed, before schooling her features into a mask of neutrality, the human nodded. "Of course. Lead the way, Admirals."

With that, the two Admirals left, with the dark haired woman trailing close behind. It was soon after that when Taar returned to his duties, leaving Tali to sort through her thoughts by herself.

_A human on the flotilla? What was going on?_

0-0-0-0-0-0

An exasperated sigh escaped Shepard's lips for the sixth time as he paced in front of the same door he had been for the past fifteen minutes. Incessantly, he lightly trailed his fingers over the surface of the card in his pocket contemplating his options.

He was here now; all he had to do was use the card to open the door and walk through, yet something in the back of his mind kept holding him back. He still didn't trust Aria, yet logically, everything she said had made sense. There was no reason for her to stab him in the back; at least not yet. She had bigger fish to fry.

The sudden hydraulic hiss of a door sliding open interrupted his thoughts and stopped him in his tracks. Turning to look at the door he had been pacing in front of, he saw that it was open. In the doorway leaned peculiar looking human woman with a clean-shaven head, staring at him with a bemused expression.

Upon first glance at the woman, the first thing that immediately caught Shepard's attention was her tattoos. Nearly every inch of exposed flesh (in her rather minimalistic outfit, there was a lot of exposed flesh) was heavily inked. The small patches of tattoo-free skin she had were intersected by numerous nasty-looking scars.

At first the scars seemed random; souvenirs from past battles, but upon closer inspection, many of them seemed to fallow neat, concise patters. Shepard had seen scars like that before; they were put there deliberately. This woman had experienced torture, and judging by the sheer number of scars, more than once.

"You do realize that there are cameras up there, right?" The woman asked, waving a hand in an upwards sweep. "We've been watching you walking around out here for the past quarter of a fucking hour. Are you coming in, or not?"

"You know who I am?" Shepard asked in surprise.

"Yeah, yeah," the woman replied non-chalantly, "You're that big fucking hot-shot from the Alliance. Aria told us. Now, if you plan on coming, I suggest moving your ass. We leave port in ten minutes."

Shepard tentatively glanced behind him at the alleyway that would lead him back to one of Omega's filth-ridden marketplaces. This was the defining moment; would he choose a life of piracy, or would he crawl back into bottle? Neither choices appealed to him in his current state, but at least one option left him with at least a shred of dignity.

"What the hell," Shepard murmured before turning back to the woman and stepping forward. "Alright. Let's go."

The woman gave an almost knowing smirk before leading Shepard through the door. "I'm Jack," the woman said tersely, as they made their way to a small docking bay. "I'm your XO."

Shepard extended his hand towards Jack, "I'm-," he began.

"-Shepard," she interrupted, casting a glance at Shepard's offered hand, before turning away, completely ignoring it. "Yeah, I know. Now let's get this fucking show on the road," She said, gesturing down one of the many jetways that branched off of the docking bay.

Minutes later, Shepard found himself in the CIC of an aged, but modest sized Frigate. It was of turian build, judging by the fact that the CIC was located so far behind the bridge. Around them, the ship's mixed-species crew bustled about.

"This is the Aternus," Jack explained, almost fondly, as she sidestepped an asari who sprinted past her. "She was a Hierarchy ship until she was retired last year and Omega bought her. She's old, but she's performed flawlessly in all of the slaver raids she's been through; she'll get the job done."

Shepard took his time examining the ship and her crew as they walked, taking note of any individuals who stood out to him. Standing sentinel on either side of a doorway Shepard assumed was the armory was a turian and a krogan. The turian stood tall and rigid, his arms held tightly at his side. His very demeanour suggested to Shepard that he had the background and discipline of a former soldier. The krogans beside him, however, stood very calm and relaxed, yet just as ready to fight as his comrade. Everything about the krogans screamed 'mercenary' to Shepard.

"Very diverse crew," Shepard voiced his observations.

Jack merely shrugged nonchalantly as she made her way to an empty terminal at the center of the CIC. Tapping a couple keys on the holo-display, she began to speak. "We have Shepard," she said, her voice being relayed through the ship's intercom, "I expect this ship to be out of dock within the next minute." Stepping away from the intercom, Jack turned to a passing turian. "Kalin," she barked out, "show Shepard around the ship; I don't have time to babysit."

As soon as the orders were out of her mouth, Jack turned and stalked away, leaving Shepard with the turian. "I get the funny feeling she doesn't like me that much," Shepard muttered; more to himself than anyone else.

"She's just stressed. It'll wear off once she gets to know you," a flanging female voice reassured him.

Shepard turned to face the source of the voice, blinking in surprise when he found himself staring at the turian beside him. "You're a woman," he stated simply.

"And you're a man," the turian replied simply. "I wasn't sure at first; it's almost impossible to tell, since humans don't have head crests. Though, I guess you don't have those funny bumps that Jack has."

There was a brief pause before Shepard gave a light chuckle and extended his hand. "John Shepard," he said.

"Kalin Vespasius," the turian greeted in response, grasping his hand in her talons and giving it a firm shake. "I guess I'll be showing you around the ship. Anywhere in particular you want to start? The bridge? Mess hall? Engineering?"

"Actually, if they aren't busy, I'd like to meet the commanding officer," Shepard replied politely, "Just so I know who exactly I'll be taking orders from."

Kalin's mandibles flexed in surprise. "You mean no one told you?" she asked.

"Told me what?" Shepard asked, quirking an eyebrow in confusion.

Kalin shook her head slowly before composing herself. Turning to Shepard, she explained, "This is your ship, Shepard. You're the CO."

To his credit, Shepard's shocked expression didn't last long before he schooled his features. "Would have been nice to know beforehand," he muttered, before addressing the Turian, "In that case, take me to the crew's quarters, I'd like to know the people on my ship."

Giving a single, crisp nod in acknowledgement, the turian gestured Shepard to follow as she turned towards a flight of stairs at the back of the CIC. "We were just as surprised when Aria told us," she said as the pair descended the stairs, "We were assuming that Jack was going to be our CO, and that we'd be getting a new XO."

"Aria set this up?" Shepard asked, stopping mid step. "And what happened to your last CO?" he asked.

Kalin's countenance turned suddenly sullen. "Killed in action," she replied sadly, "sorry, it's not my place to say more than that."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Shepard said sincerely.

"Yeah," Kalin murmured, staring off into the distance, "He will be missed."

"Shall we continue?" asked Shepard, hoping to distract the turian from the morose topic.

"Of course," she replied, instantly straightening her posture as she continued to lead Shepard through the ship.

0-0-0-0-0

"Absolutely not! Why are we even entertaining the idea!?" Tali heard her father's voice shout, even from the opposite end of the corridor, as she approached her destination.

Hours after Tali had finally left engineering; she managed to bump into an out-of-breath Boli'Vix. After explaining that he had been searching the entire ship for her, he informed her that she had received an urgent message before hastily returning her omni-tool. The message had been from her Auntie Raan, requesting her presence in the Admiralty's chamber.

Nearing the door that led to said chamber, Tali heard Raan reply to her father. "And just why not, Rael?" she asked, "She is the perfect candidate."

"She's far too young!" was Rael's outraged response. "She isn't even of age for her pilgrimage! They will not appreciate us sending a mere girl! They will take it as an insult!"

'_Who is this "she"'?_ Tali found herself wondering as she hesitated to knock on the door. '_And who are "they"'?_

"That _'mere girl'_ happens to be your _daughter_, Rael," Raan snapped, answering Tali's first question, "and she is only a month away from being old enough to leave for her pilgrimage."

Inside, Tali's thoughts and emotions threatened to wage war. '_This was something private, something official that she should not be listening to_,' she told herself. '_But this was about _her_, of course she had the right to listen!'_ Another voice reasoned.

"It doesn't matter whose daughter she is," her father rebutted, before either of Tali's inner voices could speak again. Resigning herself to heed the advice of the second, she pressed herself against the wall and listened. "She cannot be treated with favouritism. She is too young and under qualified; she alone cannot do this!"

The rather pompous, in Tali's opinion, voice of Zaal'Koris spoke up. "Then she won't go alone. I volunteer to go with her."

"Of course you would, Zaal," Han'Gerrel growled, "That way you would be able to freely spew your blasphemous ideals!"

"Hardly," Zaal replied calmly, "I would of course have Tali with me, and she would be able to represent the... less peaceful... views of her father."

Tali could almost hear the glare her father had undoubtedly leveled at Koris. "So you too are in favour of sending Tali?" he snarled.

"Of course," Zaal'Koris replied diplomatically, "Miss Lawson voiced, on multiple occasions, her interest in once again meeting with your daughter. Clearly, Tali made an impression. I don't doubt it either; while I question her political views for being dangerously close to your own, Rael, I would be blind to not see the skill she possesses. The engineering staff on this ship hail her as a prodigy with an omni-tool, and her scores in combat simulation are the highest in her class. She is a shining example of a quarian, and I cannot think of a better candidate to represent our people."

Tali's ego immediately puffed up at Koris's compliments. It was odd; he was the last person she expected to say such kind things about her, yet here he was, doing so in front of the entire admiralty board.

"I second Zaal's idea," spoke Daro'Xen for the first time since Tali began listening.

"I never thought I'd say this, but I have to agree with Zaal on this one," said Han'Gerrel, sounding apologetic. "What he is proposing, logically, makes sense."

Seeing he was far outnumbered, Rael'Zorah sighed in defeat. "Very well," he acquiesced slowly.

"Excellent," Raan exclaimed cheerfully. "I've already sent Tali a message to see us here. Hopefully she will be here soon."

Taking that as her cue, Tali knocked on the door. Upon hearing a loud "Enter," in response, she opened the door and stepped inside. Upon crossing the room's threshold, she found herself under the intense gaze of all five admirals. Immediately, she felt very self-conscious.

"Tali," Shala'Raan said, "We have some excellent news!"

Tali looked up expectantly at the admirals. "The conclave was recently and rather unexpectedly contacted by the Earth System's Alliance," Han'Gerrel explained, taking over from Raan, "It seems they are willing to open a diplomatic channel with the Migrant Fleet. I'm sure I don't have to tell you just what this means for the quarian people. We could be looking at the beginning of an alliance between the quarians and the humans. For the first time since our exile, there may be someone willing to help us reclaim the home world!"

"Or someone who will help us find a new home world; peacefully," Zaal'Koris interjected. "Regardless, this is a truly historic event."

"Tali," Raan said, "The Alliance has a ship currently docked with the Rayya, and is waiting for us to send someone with them to Earth in order to make this alliance official. We want you and Admiral Koris to go."

"Earth?" Tali gasped. Her knees nearly buckled as what Raan had explained slowly sunk in. Whatever she had been expecting when she overheard the tail end of the admirals' conversation, it certainly wasn't this. If it weren't for her enviro-suit being in the way, she would have pinched herself. "You want me to go to Earth?"

"Yes," Raan answered, the smile apparent in her voice, "the two of you will be the first quarians in over three centuries to be officially welcomed on a home world. That is, of course, if you accept."

Tali turned her head to Han'Gerrel, who nodded encouragingly at her. Sweeping her gaze across the rest of the admirals, she watched as Zaal'Koris, standing ridged and tall, gave her an almost imperceptible nod. Surprisingly, so did Xen.

When her eyes met with her father's, he immediately broke eye-contact, turning his head away so sharply, it almost appeared as if his daughter's eyes had scalded him. Willing them to do just that, Tali send a hard glare at him at his reaction.

_Fine_, she thought, _if he's so opposed to this, maybe I'll accept just to spite him._

Feeling suddenly rebellious, Tali turned to Raan. "When do we leave?" she asked simply.

0-0-0-0-0

**So there's the first chapter. It's just an introductory chapter; the action starts in the next one.**

**If you spot any spelling or grammar mistakes, please let me know. I'm prone to making typos, especially when I start typing fast. Also, please feel free to review; I know there's not much yet to review, but I like hearing feedback, even when it's (constructive) criticism.**


	2. Chapter 2: Into the Storm

**So, first chapter didn't get nearly as much attention as I had hoped it would, though I suppose since it's a brand new story, it makes sense that it didn't get a whole lot of traffic. **

**If you have any comments/complaints so far, please drop a review; they really mean a lot to me; more than any amount of follows or favourites (though those are nice too).**

0-0-0-0-0

Adjusting once again to life aboard a ship over the past three days was relatively easy for Shepard. He had served aboard his fair share of vessels during his time with The Alliance, and returning to that lifestyle was just like riding a bike. Sure there had been a few differences from what he was used to; the Aternus wasn't a military vessel, and her crew didn't adhere to the same strict code of discipline that the Alliance did, but it was at least familiar territory.

A small portion of the crew, such as Kalin seemed to warm up to him rather quickly, though the majority held him at a distance. They would follow any orders he gave them, though most seemed to do so with reluctance. Whenever he would enter a room, conversation would immediately die down as he was subjected to a plethora of unfriendly glares.

Jack seemed to be the worst of them, always seeming to actively avoid him. Whatever dialogue they would exchange was kept terse, ending with the tattooed woman vacating the room as quickly as possible.

Last night, he had been unable to sleep and left his cabin in favour of grabbing something from the mess hall. When he arrived, his eyes fell upon the slumped form of his XO, asleep at one of the tables, with a data-pad still clutched in her hand. He had debated for a few moments on whether or not he should wake her up so she could head to her own bed, rather than sleep on the hard surface of the table. He finally decided against it, fearing what a half-awake Jack would do to him for interrupting her sleep.

Instead, he had merely filed the incident away in his head for later as he bonelessly flopped into a chair beside Kalin. It was morning, or at least what constituted as morning while not planet-side, and his skull was pounding relentlessly.

"Ugh," he grunted as he clutched his head, fruitlessly attempting to kneed out the pain with one hand, while the other pushed food around his bowl with his spoon. In respect to his migraine, he had understandably lost his appetite.

"Hung-over?" Kalin chuckled as she shovelled in a mouthful of what looked like purple mashed potatoes flecked with chocolate sprinkles.

"Just the opposite," Sheppard groaned, setting down his spoon.

"Ah, detoxing," the turian nodded in acknowledgement, "I've unfortunately had experience with that. It wasn't fun, and I had a program. Can't imagine what you're going through trying to do it white-knuckled."

"Helps when you have no idea where they store the alcohol on this ship," he shrugged. He watched as she took another spoonful of the purple potatoes. "What the hell is that?" he said.

"I should ask you the same thing," she replied, gesturing to his own bowl, "That looks like an infected wound."

Glancing down at the meal before him, he chuckled. "Oatmeal," he answered, "I guess it does kind of look gross, doesn't it?"

Kalin nodded, "I'll say. This is pureed gurtu root. It used to be a quarian dish, actually."

"Looks like Barney the dinosaur vomit," he responded with a sly grin.

Kalin quirked her head to the side in confusion. "Barney the dinosaur?" she asked, "Who is that."

"Never mind," Sheppard muttered. He was about to stand up and return his bowl to the mess sergeant when he saw Jack stride purposefully into the room.

"Listen up people!" she barked, drawing in the attention of everyone in the room, "We've intercepted transmissions from a slave ship leaving the Kriseroi system that's ripe for the picking. It's five hours away from the Nariph relay; we'll be there in three to set up a surprise for it. I want to see all hands on deck within the next five minutes, and I don't give a fuck if you didn't get to finish breakfast. Now let's move!"

Beside Sheppard, Kalin's mandibles flexed into the turian version of a grin. "Let's see if you live up to your reputation," she said as she stood up, clutching her plate in her talons. "You're about to get your first taste of battle on the Aternus."

0-0-0-0-0

Tali hummed softly as she gazed out of the massive panoramic viewport on the ship's starboard observation deck. She wasn't sure where she had picked up the tune, but she found it soothing.

It had been three days since she and Zaal'Koris had boarded the human vessel; the SSV Passchendaele, which was, according to Operative Lawson, one of two brand new stealth frigates the Alliance had developed in a joint effort with the Turian Hierarchy. The ship was absolutely beautiful; quite possibly the most advanced vessel in the entire galaxy, and Tali was dying to see the ship's engine room. Koris, however, had dissuaded her from asking to see it; for fear that her inquiry would be interpreted as an attempt to snoop in on Alliance military secrets.

Apparently, the stuffy admiral had, despite his optimism in their possible partnership with the humans, not gotten over the general xenophobia other races seemed hold against the quarians, and was worried that their hosts would be offended by to many questions. So, Tali had contented herself to staying in the crew deck of the ship. Every so often, she liked to simply sit in the observation decks and watch the stars as they whizzed through space.

"It's beautiful isn't it?" asked a voice behind her.

Tali was wrenched out of her thoughts as she spun around to face the source of the voice.

"Operative Lawson," Tali greeted the human woman cheerfully, "I didn't hear you come in."

"I am able to be stealthy when I want," replied Lawson with a small smile, "and please, call me Miranda."

The dark haired human crossed the room and took a seat in the chair beside Tali, and the pair simply sat and watched the stars pass by in contented silence.

"This view sort of reminds me of home," Miranda said, breaking the silence, "At night, when I was a lot younger, whenever I couldn't sleep, I would go outside and lay on the grass and watch the stars. I would always wonder if there was someone somewhere on a planet around one of those stars looking back."

Tali turned to look at the woman sitting beside her, who gazed out of the viewport with a distant expression. "This is my first time away from the flotilla," Tali said, "I've never been on a planet before."

Miranda pulled her gaze away from the viewport to meet the quarian's twin glowing eyes. "Are you nervous?" she asked.

"Yes," Tali answered honestly, wringing her hands together. "My father always used to talk about terribly he was treated when he was on his pilgrimage by just about every alien he met. My auntie Raan, all the people in engineering, even my instructors as a child; they all have said the same thing. Yet, everyone aboard the Passchendaele has been so nice to me."

"You're worried it's all just a front?" Miranda questioned, not unkindly.

"No!" Tali gasped; worried she had insulted her host, "Not at all! I'm just... I don't know what to think. Your people are being so nice to us, yet I've been brought up to not expect kindness from anyone who isn't quarian."

"It goes against everything you had expected," Miranda replied in understanding.

Tali nodded. "Why... why are the humans being so kind?" she asked, cautiously.

Miranda leaned back on the couch, shifting her body to face the quarian beside her more comfortably. What do you know about the First Contact War?" the human asked.

"The First Contact War? Isn't that when your people fought the Turians?"

"It is," replied Miranda, "I was seven when the Turians invaded Shanxi. I lived on Terra Nova, another human colony, at the time. I remember how terrified everyone was that we'd be next; how people seemed to scramble to scrounge together supplies and weapons. Some people fled back to earth; even more enlisted in the military. Everyone was in a state of panic."

"I can't imagine what that must have been like," Tali said, feeling a pang of sympathy for the woman.

Miranda smiled thankfully at the quarian. "A lot of people still hold animosity for the Turians; especially the ones that were there. A lot of people were unhappy that we opened up an embassy on the citadel. As a whole, humankind hasn't forgiven the citadel species."

Tali cocked her head questioningly at the human. "I thought it was only the Turians that your people fought," she said.

"It was," the operative replied, "But no one else stepped in to intervene until we actually began to push the Turians back. The asari and the salarians supported the Turians when they refused to pay reparations, and frankly, hardly anyone trusts any of the Citadel species. Add on the fact that the batarians are on our doorstep, raiding our colonies, and humans have developed a sense of xenophobia; rejecting any and all things alien. We need an ally; someone to let the people of earth know that not everything non-human in this galaxy is against us."

"Like the quarians?" Tali asked.

Miranda nodded. "Who better than the quarians? As far as physical appearances go, humans and quarians look very similar. That makes welcoming your species with open arms much easier for the people who have grown up to fear species like the turians and the batarians; species that look frightening and monstrous from their standpoint. But, more importantly, your people have been cast aside by the citadel, and that's something humanity can sympathize with."

"I guess that makes sense," Tali admitted.

"I'm glad we had this talk," Miranda said as she slowly rose to her feet. "You know, I would have thought you'd be spending more time in engineering."

Tali shrugged. "I didn't want to be a bother," she responded simply.

"Nonsense!" the dark haired woman insisted. "I'll make sure all staff members know that you have clearance. With your talent, I'm sure you'll wind up teaching my men a thing or two about their own ship, Miss Zorah," she said with a conspiratorial grin.

As the operative turned to exit through the door, Tali spoke up. "Tali," she said, "Please, call me Tali."

0-0-0-0-0

"The transmissions that we've been able to intercept tell us that the ship doesn't have any cargo, so we don't have to worry about any slaves on board," Jack said, as she paced before a small group of crew members, including both Shepard and Kalin, that had gathered in the CIC.

Less than half an hour ago, the Aternus had engaged and crippled their targeted slave ship in a rather ingenious display of tactics. Shepard had allowed Jack to take control of the rather brief battle; even though he had a feeling that she would have taken command regardless.

On her orders, the Aternus had positioned itself close to the system's mass relay; the massive eezo core of the superstructure masking their ship's signature. As soon as their target was in range, two well-aimed shots had disabled the slave ship's propulsion, and it's rather meagre weapons system before their prey even noticed they were there.

"But, big fucking surprise; there will be a welcoming party, and they won't be there to pop open a bottle of champagne," Jack said, earning a light chuckle from the crew. "We'll split into two teams; each will take a shuttle and board using one of the ship's two shuttle bays. The forward shuttle bay is closer to the CIC, and thusly will face heavier resistance. I'll take the larger of two teams and hit that one; Shepard, Kalin, you two will hit up the aft shuttle bay." The disregard of Shepard's authority was clear in Jack's orders.

"Ma'am, Shepard's an N7," Kalin spoke up, "He's had years of combat experience under his belt; shouldn't he be the one to lead the larger team?"

Jack grit her teeth and leveled a glare at the female turian. "Objection noted," she growled, before going on to explain each teams objective. Jack's team would push their way to the bridge and capture the ship's captain, while Shepard and Kalin were to simply clean out any resistance until a surrender could be forced.

Having received their objectives, the boarding parties made their way towards the Aternus' shuttle bay.

Once aboard the small craft, Kalin immediately took the helm; Shepard, having had no experience piloting a shuttle, contented himself with the co-pilot's seat. "You didn't have to stick up for me back there," the human said, watching as Kalin flipped a few switches, bringing the shuttle rumbling to life.

The turian shrugged, "Meh," she said, "Someone's got to look out for you."

"You aren't worried about rocking the boat?" Shepard asked.

"Boat?" Kalin ask in confusion, the literal translation of the human idiom that her translator chip gave her having gone right over her head. "What does a boat have to do with anything?"

"It's an expression," Shepard explained, "what I mean is; aren't you worried about upsetting Jack?"

"Not really," she replied as she slowly maneuvered the shuttle out of the underbelly of the frigate, "Jack isn't one to hold a grudge against her crew, and once she realizes that you're not trying to usurp her, she'll understand."

"I appreciate it," the human told her candidly, watching as the slave ship in the distance grew larger in their viewport.

The rest of the short journey proceeded in relative silence, until the rear shuttle bay came into view. Unlike that of the Aternus, the slave ship's shuttle bays were perpetually open holes in the side of the ship. A shimmering blue over the opening signified a kinetic barrier; one designed to keep oxygen in the ship's hull, yet allow large objects, such as the Kodiak that Kalin currently piloted, to freely enter and exit.

"I count six hostiles," Shepard observed as Kalin guided the shuttle on a path that would take them straight through the barrier. "Two on the ground and four up above," he stated, watching as two armed batarians, standing right where Shepard and Kalin intended to land their shuttle, readied their weapons, while four of their comrades did the same thing from a network of catwalks suspended above the landing floor.

Bullets started flying the second they broke through the barrier, illuminating the shuttle's own kinetic barriers. Kalin expertly steered the shuttle towards the two batarians on the floor, managing to pin one of them under the small craft as the other rolled out of the Kodiak's path.

"Nice," Shepard complimented, readying his assault rifle. "Stay in cover and time your shots," he instructed as Kalin withdrew her M-29 Incisor sniper rifle from the holster on her back. "We'll try and take out the ones on the high ground first; they pose a bigger threat. I'll lay down some suppressing fire while you pick them off."

Readying themselves on either side of the external hatch in the passenger bay, Kalin activated the door controls while Shepard took aim. The second the door was open, he let loose a torrent of bullets in the general direction of the group above them.

Expertly, the group split into two, taking off in opposite directions, forcing Shepard to focus on one set of enemies, while the other was left unchecked. He was forced to retreat into cover behind the Kodiak's doorframe as the group he hadn't been firing at turned their weapons at him.

"Shit!" he cursed, as mass accelerator rounds impacted the section of the floor he had occupied a mere second earlier.

When the sound of gunfire ceased, Kalin whipped around the corner, letting out a three-round burst at the closer of the two groups. Following her example, Shepard leaned out of cover and took aim. His volley of bullets hit their mark, dropping the shields of one of the batarians, and a second three-shot burst from Kalin's Incisor dropped him.

The duo was forced back into cover once more as the three remaining batarians returned fire. It was a few seconds before the gunfire let up, and the unmistakable sounds of thermal clips being exchanged was heard. Taking the opportunity presented, Shepard motioned to the thin metal struts that held the catwalks suspended in the air.

"See you can take out those supports," he ordered.

Nodding in acknowledgement, Kalin set to work, firing at the rivets that attached the struts to the railing of the catwalks, aiming at a section that held a particularly heavy looking stack of crates. Shepard, meanwhile, opened fire at the three remaining batarians, managing to take out the one that was by himself.

Kalin suddenly cried out in success when the strut she had been aiming at finally snapped apart. The catwalk started to groan under the sudden stress, but refused to give way. With a frustrated sigh, Kalin turned her attention to the strut on the immediate left of the one she had destroyed.

While her attention was focused on her objective, the shuttle door that she and Shepard had not been using suddenly swung open, revealing the surviving batarian that had been on the ground. The batarian, sporting a shotgun in his hands, took aim at the exposed back of the turian's head.

Noticing the newcomer, Shepard threw himself at the batarian, tackling him to the ground, just as he pulled the trigger. The sudden weight of the armoured human threw off his aim, causing his shot to hit the roof of the Kodiak, peppering it with buck-shot.

The sudden gunfire at such close range threw off Kalin's concentration, just as the two batarians on the catwalk took aim. The incoming salvo of ammunition brought down her shields, and a lucky shot managed to clip her in the shoulder. Gasping in pain, she ducked back into cover.

She watched as Shepard, sprawled on top of the prone form of the batarian he had taken down, raised his rifle into the air. With a sharp grunt, he brought down the butt of his rifle into the face of the four-eyed alien and a sickening crunch of bones filled the air. With a roar, he raised his rifle and smashed it into the batarian's face once more. Then again, and again, until all that remained of the batarian's face was a mutilated bloody pulp.

As his weapon rose once more, Shepard suddenly froze. Staring down in horror at the dead body under him, he seemed to realize just what he had been doing and dropped the gun in his hands.

"Shepard!" Kalin called out, snapping him out of his trance.

Collecting himself, the human retrieved his gun from where he had dropped it, and ran to his turian squad mate. "You're hit," he observed, noting the blue blood that seeped from her shoulder.

"Nothing serious," she assured him. "For now, let's focus on taking out those bastards above us."

"Right," he conceded. Pausing first to contemplate their situation, he spoke, "with an injured shoulder, your aim's gonna be off. Take my gun; you only really need one hand for it. Give me some cover while I take down that catwalk."

Their course of action decided; the two swapped guns and readied themselves. Throwing themselves into the open, Kalin sent a barrage from Shepard's Avenger towards the remaining two slavers, forcing them to stay in cover. With their enemies occupied, Shepard was free to focus the entirety of his attention on his target.

With a few well aimed shots, the second strut finally snapped, and the catwalk above them shuddered. A loud crack was heard as the section that held the pile of crates gave way. Unable to handle the weight, the catwalk began to collapse, pulling with it the section that their enemies had occupied.

The two batarians were flung to the floor, allowing Kalin to make short work of them using her borrowed weapon.

She took a moment to observe her handiwork before turning to Shepard to return his gun. As they traded their own weapons back, she couldn't help but notice that the human carefully kept his eyes averted away from the dead bodies. Between that, and his reaction to killing the Batarian a had physically brawled, she knew something was up, but knew better than to pry. He had wounds that ran deep; that much was obvious, and pushing the matter right now would only make those wounds worse.

Speaking of wounds, she watched as Shepard removed a pack of dextro-amino compatible medigel from a pouch on his belt. "Let's see that shoulder" he said, pointing at the blood that flecked her armour. With a resigned sigh, she detached the damaged spaulder and pauldron of her armour, exposing the bony shoulder beneath.

The bullet had thankfully managed to hit one of the protruding bone plates of her arm, rather than the soft flesh that surrounded them. Accepting the medigel from her comrade, she massaged the healing substance into the offending abrasion and sighed in relief as its numbing agents took effect.

"You think they called for backup?" Shepard asked as he moved to examine a storage locker on the far side of the hangar.

"Possibly," Kalin replied noncommittally, shrugging her uninjured shoulder. "Depends on how well Jack's team is doing. She has five people with her, so even if these guys called for reinforcements, they could have gone to the front of the ship to fight the bigger threat instead."

A loud clang rang out as Shepard sharply struck the locking mechanism of the locker. Opening the metal door, he knelt down to examine its contents.

"There's some thermal clips here, in case you want to stock up," he called out across the large room.

Deciding it would be a good idea to do so, she made her way over to her partner. "Anything else good in there?" she inquired.

"Some weapons," he replied, "but nothing overly special. Looks like it's all Batarian State Arms stuff. Oh... this could be useful." Shuffling was heard as Shepard seemingly disappeared into the locker for a few moments, before emerging with a two-way radio clutched in one hand.

With a click, he turned the radio on. The duo immediately froze when a voice crackled through its speakers. "All units, this is Captain Ka'hairal Balak speaking. The intruders from the forward docking bay have been subdued. Squads 1 and 2 are to report to the bridge to assist with the interrogation of the survivors. Everyone else; focus on the ones that made into the aft hangar."

Letting out a torrent of curses, Shepard chucked the radio against the nearest bulkhead, watching with grim satisfaction as it broke apart on impact. "Come, on," he commanded, "we need to get to the bridge."

Sliding a new thermal clip into her rifle, Kalin nodded, just as gunfire erupted nearby.

0-0-0-0-0

Tali gaped in wonder at the enormous, pulsing blue drive core before her. Never before had she seen such a large drive core on a ship of the Passchendaele's size.

"It's one hell of a sight, isn't it?" a voice asked, wrenching her away from the mesmerizing view. Before her stood the tall form of a human male in an Alliance uniform. The man had very short, greying hair, a trim goatee and a very kind face that instantly made Tali feel comfortable in his presence.

"Keelah," was all she could say as she peered over the man's shoulder, at the impressive drive core.

"That's the Tantalus drive core; one of the only two of its kind in the entire galaxy," the man said proudly. "Though, I hear they're planning on putting one into a cruiser; the Antananarivo, or some long name like that."

"Why is it so big? A larger eezo drive core wouldn't really do much to increase the ship's FTL speeds. The only thing that I can think of that a larger drive core would be able to accomplish is..." Tali's eyes widened in realization "...an improved drive charge storage capacity."

A grin split the face of the man before her as he let out a throaty chuckle. "Oh, how I love working with quarians," he said wistfully. When Tali tilted her helmet to the side in confusion, he elaborated, "Sorry, it's just that all the quarians I've worked with have all seemed to be able to grasp engineering concepts far faster than any of the humans I've worked with."

"You've worked with quarians before?" Tali asked.

"Yeah, I used to work on civilian mining projects around Terra Nova, keeping all the freighters there operational. A lot of quarians on their pilgrimage worked there as well," he explained with a shrug. "Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself; I'm 2nd Lieutenant Simon Atwell, the Passchendaele's Chief Engineer. Pleased to meet you."

"Tali'Zorah nar Rayya," the quarian replied, still focusing half of her attention on the looming engine in the background.

Noticing her gaze, the kindly human engineer gently guided her towards the glowing blue of the Tantalus. "You hit the nail on the head, by the way; the Passchendaele's drive core is designed to be able to run completely silent for a few hours when need be. Between the core's expanded charge capacity, and it's advanced heat sinks, we're able to go completely undetected on an enemy ship's scanners when need be."

"That's incredible," Tali nearly swooned, stepping closer to the gargantuan device. Out of nowhere, the drive suddenly and very noticeably dimmed, causing Tali to panic. "What just happened?" she gasped.

With the same kind smile he'd been wearing since she entered engineering, Atwell explained, "We've just exited FTL."

"We've exited FTL?" she asked incredulously, "but I didn't feel anything! The inertial dampeners on this ship must be incredibly powerful; even the newest ships in the flotilla shudder when they exit FTL."

"Every piece of hardware on the Passchendaele is state of the art," Atwell said proudly. At a sudden bustle of activity amongst the crew around them, he turned directly to the quarian. "Speaking of drive charge capacity, ours is almost full. We're going to be discharging it around the nearby planet, Alkonost. What to help?"

"Help?" Tali gasped. She was nearly overwhelmed to simply be able to see the ultramodern drive core, but to actually be able to work on it? "Keelah, it would be an honor," she replied giddily.

Over the course of the next hour, Tali assisted the crew with their preparations for discharging the excess energy buildup in the drive core, even offering a few suggestions on techniques that would help speed up the process. By the time the final preparations were complete, Tali's enviro-suit was covered from head to toe in grease. Even her visor had a few noticeable streaks across its surface.

"Prepare for venting process!" Atwell called out across the room. Tali, who had just finished inspecting one of the deck's various displays to ensure that everything was in order, scrambled to the Chief Engineer's side. After a series of keystrokes on his omni-tool, a large metal wall slowly slid to cover up the drive core, which had begunn to glow much more intensely.

Before it could close fully, however, a loud siren began blaring, drawing the attention of everyone in engineering. Nervous chatter erupted as large red warning signs began to flash across every display in the room. The metal wall, still not fully closed, suddenly shuddered to a hault.

Atwell let out a string of curses as he scrambled pulled up a series of charts on the holographic display before him.

"What's happening?" Tali asked nervously.

"Shit!" Atwell shouted. "The siren means that we have a hostile craft approaching, and the helmsman is putting us through evasive maneuvers, and to do that, he's pulled out of Alkonost's orbit. Something's stopping our radiation shield from closing and he drive core's set to discharge. We can't stop it once the discharge protocol is already engaged; it's basically a controlled, partial core meltdown. unless we figure out a way to get that radiation shield closed, we'll be fried. Without the planet's magnetic field to absorb the excess radiation, it'll be released in _here_!"

"Bosh'tet!" Tali swore. Her veins slowly filled with ice as the severity of the situation began to set in. "Is there a way to manually shut the radiation shield?," she hurriedly suggested.

"There's a lock that detaches the radiation shield from the electric motors that close it," he said slowly, thinking out loud. "If that were disengaged, it would be easy enough to close the sheild, but it's really only accessible by completely removing our external plating, and that's not an option."

He stood for a few moments, pursing his lips in thought, before suddenly rushing to a grate in the nearest bulkhead. "There's a ventilation duct behind here." he explained as he detached the grate, revealing a rather cramped looking hole. "to the right and up is another grate that's right beside the radiation shield's motor," he elaborated, "Unfortunately, this duct isn't designed for people to climb through; it's too small for me or any of my men, so you'll have to be the one that goes in. I'll talk you through the process on your omni-tool if you need help."

Needing no further instruction, Tali got on her hands and knees and began to squeeze herself into the tiny duct. The process of crawling forwards in such a cramped area was a taxing one, as she struggled to find enough room to move her limbs. By the time she reached the end of the first section of duct, her knees were aching with a dull pain. The natural way quarian legs were bent meant that their species simply was not designed to stay in a crawling position for any amount of time.

Thankfully, Tali was granted reprieve as the duct sharply turned upwards. She now had the task of climbing the smooth, vertical face of the duct. The cramped quarters actually came in handy at that point, as Tali was able to press against opposite sides of the vent in order to shimmy upwards, albeit slowly.

"I'm at the vertical section," Tali panted, knowing that her omni-tool would pick it up.

A sharp intake of breath was heard on the other end of the connection, followed by an almost resigned sigh. "Listen, Tali," Atwell's voice said, sounding eerily calm in their desperate situation, "That shaft you're in is surrounded by the ship's heat sinks and part of the radiation shield that hasn't fully extended. The heat sinks are designed to absorb radiation so you'll probably be safe."

Tali's head snapped back in shock when she realized what the human engineer was trying to say. Unfortunately, in the confines of the duct, that meant that it came into contact with the metal wall behind her with a sharp _crack_. She instantly saw stars, and nearly lost her footing as her head began to throb.

Gritting her teeth in an attempt to adjust to the pain, she began to speak, "No, I'm almost at the lock, I can do this! You'll all be-"

Before she could finish her sentence, however, the speakers on her omni-tool crackled as they filled with static, before just as suddenly cutting out. The metal on the wall to her right suddenly became impossibly hot, searing her arm, leg, and side. Yelping in pain, she pulled away from the heated side. The sudden loss of contact with one side sent her plummeting several feet below.

An audible crack was heard when her ankle rolled on impact, and she cried out in agony. Clutching her now possibly broken ankle, she observed the partially melted sections of her suit that had come into contact with the side of the vent that had burned her. Thankfully, she could see no suit breaches, but the sight sure wasn't pretty.

"Lieutenant Atwell!" she called out. There was no response. "Lieutenant!" she cried out once more. All she received was silence.

Realization clawed at her skull as a sob escaped her lips. '_They're dead_', a voice in the back of her mind told her. '_They're dead because you weren't quick enough.'_


	3. Chapter 3: Opening Old Wounds

**So, in this chapter, you see one of the characters open up a little emotionally. I must have rewritten that particular scene at least a dozen times, and I'm still not sure if it's good enough. If you have a particularly strong opinion on that scene, perhaps strong enough to review, please let me know how I did.**

**I'd also like to make the following statement before jumping into this chapter; while drinking in moderation, especially during social gathering, is perfectly fine by me, I by no means support alcoholism.**

0-0-0-0-0

Shepard struggled to force down the bile that threatened to rise from his throat as another dead batarian joined its comrades.

"Spirits; how many of those sons of varen do we have to kill?" Kalin gasped, hurling herself behind cover just in time, before bullets sliced the air around her.

"Too god-damned many," Shepard growled, forcing himself to not look at the pile of bodies they had left in their wake.

With a grunt of effort, Kalin leapt out of cover, lobbing a grenade at the cluster of hostiles at the end of the passage way. The grenade detonated, taking down all but one. The survivor was quickly dispatched as the female turian tackled him to the floor, pressing the muzzle of her sniper rifle against his forehead and pulling the trigger.

With a satisfied nod, she withdrew her gun from the corpse. Withdrawing a rag from her belt, she wiped away the bits of skull and brain matter that clung to the barrel.

"That should be the bridge just up there," Shepard said, pointing at a door ahead of them. "Are you ready?"

"Let's go," the turian replied, stashing the rag back in its place on her belt.

The duo approached the door, and with guns raised, they stormed through.

A cry of shock made its way out of Kalin's mouth at what they saw. Writhing in agony on the floor was Jack; incoherent gurgles were the only noise she made. Looming over her was a batarian; the glowing orange of an omni-tool surrounded his hand.

Behind them, a salarian; one of the crew members that had accompanied Jack, was on his knees, being held at gunpoint by five slavers.

"Drop your weapons, or her brains will paint the floor," a gruff voice commanded as a vivid green batarian approached Shepard and Kalin, holding a pistol that was leveled at the spasming form on the floor.

"What guarantees that we make it out of here alive if we do?" Shepard asked, adjusting the grip on his rifle.

The green batarian before them barked out a harsh, mirthless laugh. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing would make me allow the great 'Butcher of Torfan' to escape my ship with his life," he hissed.

"You know who I am?" Shepard asked, his eyes narrowed.

The batarian snarled. "Everyone who had family on that planet knows who you are!" he roared. "My name is Ka'hairal Balak. Remember that name, Shepard; because I remember yours! While you were busy accepting your precious medals for your 'heroic' action, I was at my brother's funeral; consoling his daughter and explaining to her why she would grow up without a father!"

It took every fiber in Shepard's being to force his hands not to tremble at Balak's declaration. "Believe me, Balak," he nearly whispered, "not a day goes by that I don't remember. Not a day goes by that I don't regret what I did."

"Ha!" Balak scoffed. "You would almost have me convinced, if it weren't for the bodies of my men out there," he said, gesturing down the hallway behind them.

"Those men are slavers, Balak; they've hurt many people," Shepard tried to reason.

"You think we do what we do because we want to?" the batarian seethed. "There is no choice; with the trade sanctions the council has put on us, the only way anyone in the Hegemony can support their families is to become a slaver, or a pirate, or a smuggler. We have loved ones we need to think about!"

A growl tore itself from Shepard's throat. "Then think about that family, Balak; you can't do them much good when you're dead. If you put away your weapons, we'll all make it out of here alive."

"Your friend's biotic implant has been sabotaged and the other one doesn't have his gun. It's seven on two; do you really think that you're in a position to negotiate?" Balak asked.

"Yes," Shepard answered simply. "The two of us have already taken down over thirty of your men. How do you think we'll fair against just seven more? Your men have their own families as well."

Balak's fingers twitched, flexing as they ghosted over his gun's trigger. "You'll let us go? Just like that?"

"Just like that," Shepard confirmed. "Take one of the shuttles, and leave the ship. It's a fair price for your lives."

The four eyes of the captain fluttered around the room; glancing rapidly between Shepard, his own weapon, and Jack on the floor. With a resigned sigh, he deftly tossed his weapon to the side. After pointed look at his crew, the rest of the batarians followed suit.

"Mark my words, Shepard," Balak snarled as he led his men past the human and turian at the door, "this isn't over. I will avenge my brother; of that, you have my word."

The second the doors shut behind the slavers, Kalin abandoned her gun and hurled herself at Jack's prone body. Shepard let out a breath he hadn't realized as he sagged to his knees, feeling suddenly twice his age.

"I don't know how the hell you did that Shepard," Kalin said as she examined Jack for any injuries.

"Yeah," he murmured, dethatching the glove of his combat armour and running his fingers across through his short hair. "Me neither."

0-0-0-0-0

Tali stared in horror at the bodies strewn across the deck.

"No," a muffled gasp made its way past her trembling lips. "No, please; no."

A lurch of the ship sent her sprawling to the floor; her injured ankle unable to support her. She bit her tongue hard enough to draw blood when she opened her eyes to see the unmoving face of Lieutenant Atwell staring back at her. '_You killed me,_' his voice echoed in her mind; taunting her.

Another shudder passed through the ship, vibrating through the deck and into Tali's mangled suit, causing her teeth to involuntarily chatter.

"Attention all crew members," the accented voice of Miranda Lawson filtered through the ship's intercom, "Our weapon systems have been hacked, and we are unable to fight back against our pursuers. Initiate evacuation. I repeat; initiate evacuation!"

A loud bang from the decks somewhere above caused Tali to flinch. Fortunately, it had the positive effect of snapping her out of her dark, self-loathing thoughts.

pulling herself to her feet, Tali scrambled to the doorway that served as the entrance to engineering, using the doorway as support. Finding it sealed, she cursed under her breath, bringing up her omni-tool with the intent of picking the lock.

After every door hacking protocol she had on her omni-tool failed, including the ones she had programmed herself, she hobbled over to one of the consoles near the now dead drive core. A few keystrokes later, she had access to the ship's systems.

The first thing she did upon bringing up the ship's schematics on the display before her was attempt to disengage the locks on her door. When that failed, she booted up a diagnostic program, hoping she could learn just what was preventing her from opening the door.

The results merely perturbed her. Something or someone was actively keeping the door shut, cancelling out her hacking routines. Whatever it was, it was the same thing that had prevented the radiation shield from closing. "The doors are on a closed system!" she exclaimed out loud, despite there being no one to hear it. Something about hearing someone's voice, even her own, seemed mildly reassuring to the distraught quarian. "It's impossible to hack them from another ship!"

'_Unless_,' a voice told her, sending ice through her veins, _'there's a saboteur on board.'_

A flashing message in the bottom right corner of the screen suddenly caught her attention. The chill that crept through her veins was replaced by an overwhelming sense of numbness as she stared vacantly at the indicator. '_All life pods successfully launched_,' it read.

'_This is it_,' the voice said. Fear clawed at her throat as she struggled to choke down sobs. '_This is the end. There's no way off this ship.'_

Pulling her knees to her chest, she curled herself into a ball and allowed her tears to overcome herself. So deep in thought with her own thoughts of sorrow was she, that she didn't hear the synthesized voice of the ship's VI over the loud speaker, warning of hostiles that had forcibly boarded the Passchendaele. She didn't even notice when the door to engineering was blown out of its track with strategically placed explosives.

It was only when rough hands grasped her wrists, forcing herself to her feet that she took any note of the world around her once more.

"Well, well, look what we have here," a gruff voice filtered through her helmet's auditory pickups, and she found herself face to face with the grinning, four-eyed face of a batarian. "Didn't expect we'd be finding any suit-rats on an Alliance ship. At least we're getting our money's worth. Quarians are worth a pretty penny on the slave market."

Tali's body involuntarily lurched, and she soon found herself being dragged out of engineering. The last thing her stress and pain addled mind registered before the events of the day finally overwhelmed her system, causing her to black out, was the receding form of Lieutenant Atwell; his lifeless body still sprawled out on the floor.

0-0-0-0-0

A sigh permeated the silence of the room as Shepard stared intently at the amber liquid in the tumbler clutched in his hand. With a slosh, he brought the glass to his lips and downed the drink, ignoring the burning sensation in his throat as it went down. Setting the now empty glass onto the counter before him, he reached over to the recently uncorked bottle that contained more of his beverage of choice in order to refill the tumbler.

Raising the refilled glass off the table, he simply held it in his hands for a moment, staring out the viewport to his right. He sat slumped in front of the bar that had been installed in one of the Aternus' observation decks, and had been for the past hour. He and Kalin had made it back on board, and making sure Jack and the salarian were in the care of the ship's medical doctor, he had made a b-line for the room he currently occupied, not expending the energy required to remove his armour first.

His ears caught the swoosh of an opening door, and he reflexively turned his head to see who had decided to grace him with their presence.

Standing there, with an incalculable expression on her face was Jack. For a moment, Shepard expected her to simply scowl and leave, much as she usually had been doing over the past three days, whenever one of them entered a room that the other already occupied. To his surprise, she approached him, taking a seat across the bar from him.

"Whiskey?" she grunted, vaguely gesturing to the glass in his hand.

"Yeah," Shepard replied simply. "Want some?"

"Nah," she replied, turning her attention to the collection of bottles that occupied the counter space beside them. After a few moments of searching the bottles, she withdrew a bottle of clear liquid, uncapped it, and took a swig without bothering to grab a glass. "More of a vodka drinker," she said.

Hesitantly, Shepard downed the last of the drink in his glass and set it aside, opting to follow Jack's lead and simply use the bottle. They sat there for nearly ten minutes, each nursing their beverage of choice, in a comfortable silence. Once or twice, Shepard caught Jack open her mouth as if to say something, though each time, she apparently thought better of it and just returned to drinking.

"Why'd you do it?" she asked, finally choosing to speak up. Shepard tilted his head to look at her. "Why did you come for us?" she elaborated.

He furrowed his brows at the sudden question. "Where's this coming from?" he asked.

"From me. Just tell me why," she replied sharply.

Shepard shook his head. "No, I think I'd like to know why you're asking first," he told her, "You've been putting up these barriers ever since I stepped foot on this vessel, and now you want me to open up to you? It doesn't make sense."

Jack scowled, crossing her arms across her chest defiantly. Shepard merely matched her glare with one of his own in a battle of wills. After a full minute of staring each other down, Jack rolled her eyes.

"Fuck! Fine!" she exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. "You want to know? I'll tell you. The last CO on this ship; his name was Meer. He and I used each other for a bit of fun every once in a while. A few people thought I was made his second in command just because I was fucking him until I dressed them down.

"A couple weeks ago, there was a raid on a slave ship, and it was just like any other at first. I led one team, he led another, and we each hit up different parts of the ship. That was his tactic; split up the enemy's forces. It always worked... well, almost always. The group I took care of got caught off guard; one of the slavers was an engineer, and he sabotaged my biotic implant, and the rest got pinned down.

"Meer was free to evacuate; it was the smart choice. Instead, he came back for us." For an instant, her voice hitched, but she powered on. "H-he didn't make it out of there."

"I'm sorr-," Shepard began to say, but was cut off.

"Then you went and pulled the same shit he did. He's not here to explain why he did what he did, but you are. So tell me," she hissed, tear threatened to spill out of her eyes, but whether they were tears of anger or of sadness, Shepard was not sure.

There they sat, facing each other; one with an expression that begged for answers, while the other struggled to come up with them. "I'm not him, Jack," Shepard replied apologetically. "I don't know why he did what he did."

"Yeah," she said with audible disappointment, "I guess not."

Taking a gulp of her vodka, Jack set the bottle back down and rose to her feet. When she made to leave, Shepard reached out across the bar and grabbed her arm.

When she turned to look at him, he spoke. "Maybe," he said slowly, "it was because he cared about you."

Tentatively, she retook her spot on the other side of the counter. Letting out a shaky breath, she brought up her omni-tool. After a few minutes of fiddling nervously with the controls, she pulled up an audio file and played it.

"Jaqueline," A male voice said, filling the quiet room. "I've programmed my omni-tool to send this message to you if I don't check in after our last mission. If you're hearing this, then that means I'm dead, and I'm so sorry I didn't make it. I just need some way to make sure, even after I'm gone, that you know something I was too scared to let you know while I was alive. I love you, Jaqueline, and I wish I had have told you sooner. Perhaps when-,"

The voice was cut off when Jack shut off her omni-tool. Her lips trembled as she drew in a ragged breath. "Why the fuck did he have to care?" she whispered; all the harshness her voice once held was gone.

The question was rhetorical, and Shepard didn't answer. He just watched as a few tears rolled down her cheek; bleeding her mascara and leaving darkened streaks. Slowly, picked up her bottle of vodka; hands unsteady and placed the bottle to her lips. She tilted the bottle so that the bottom was in the air and began to guzzle the beverage down fervently.

When she passed the three quarters mark, she withdrew the vodka from her mouth and sighed; almost satisfyingly. "Well, now you know why I'm drinking; how about you?" she asked in a surprisingly offhand manner, directing her attention to the former soldier. "And don't give me any horse shit about it being personal. I just showed you all my cards; you gotta show me yours."

"Right," he said, rubbing the back of his neck discomfort. Taking a quaff of his own liquid courage, he asked. "You've heard about Torfan and my involvement there, right?" At her nod, he continued, "Well, whatever you've heard in the news couldn't be further from the truth. I'm no hero.

"Torfan was supposed to be a pirate base; criminals only. That's what all the reports we had going in said." He stopped to turn his palms up on the counter and stare at them before continuing. "I keep telling myself that they would have died anyways; someone else would have killed them if I hadn't. At least I put them out of their misery quickly. I keep saying it over and over in hopes that... that one day I'll actually believe it; that one day I'll be able to look at my own hands and not see their blood on them."

This head whipped up so as to face Jack. His eyes held a certain look, as if he was begging; beseeching something of her. "There were women and children; colonists; innocent civilians," he whispered, "and I killed them." His voice grew louder as he growled, "I killed them all!"

The now ashen commander slumped over in his seat. On his face was an expression Jack had seen many times before; defeat.

Encouragingly, she nudged his bottle into his hand. Taking the cue, he downed its contents in their entirety. When he resurfaced to take a breath, his cheeks were flushed pink from the alcohol. Feeling woozy, he laid his head on the bar and almost immediately, he fell asleep.

"Your liver won't be thanking me for that," she said with a tired sigh.

Feeling rather downtrodden by the weight of the recently ended conversation, she decided she needed something to pick her spirits up. '_Something healthier than that_', she added, sending a glare at her mostly empty vodka.

Sparing a glance at Shepard to ensure that he was indeed still passed out, she extracted herself from her seat and began to rummage for the room. A happy, "Fuck yeah!" was heard when she finally found the item of her pursuit. With a pop, she removed the cap of the felt-tipped marker in her hands and approached the still-sleeping form of her CO; an almost maniacal grin plastered on her visage.

0-0-0-0-0

For the seventh time in the past twelve minutes, Garrus Vakarian patted his left-hand pocket to ensure his wallet was still there. A lot of people would call him paranoid, but on the streets of Omega, one could never be too safe.

'_Handy thing; wallets'_, he thought, as he pushed through the crowd around him. They were a human invention, and thus, the vast majority of his fellow turians didn't put much stock into their concept, but he found them quite useful for keeping everything important he needed with him in one convenient pouch.

'_Speaking of humans,' _he thought wryly as right in front of him, a human; female if he was correct in his thinking, tripped over her own feet right in front of him. Deftly sticking his arms out to break her fall, he caught her.

"Thanks," she said, almost breathlessly, staring up at him.

He stared back his eyes locking with hers. He had always found human eyes fascinating; they were just like those of an Asari, with a white sclera. Unlike Asari, however, their irises came in a whole variety of colours; some blue, some green, some brown; he even swore he once saw a younger human on the Citadel with purple eyes.

The human in his arms however, had irises of the deepest black; they were almost mesmerizing. The hood she wore obscured most of her face in shadow, but the dim lighting around them caught her eyes just right.

"Are you alright?" he asked, flexing his mandibles into what he hoped came across as a charming grin.

Righting herself onto her feet, she smiled back. "I should be," she replied coyly, "I suppose I'll have to watch where I step from now on. I might not have a big, strong turian to catch me."

Garrus' eyes glazed over slightly as the human stood up on her toes and placed a light kiss on his jaw. He had never held much of a human fetish, truth be told, but he could see the appeal of some of them. This one in particular piqued his interest.

Giggling lightly at his dazed expression, she called out, "thanks again, stranger," before disappearing into the crowd.

Shaking his head to clear it, he reached down to feel for his wallet for the eighth time, only to find it missing. Cursing loudly, he stalked towards the closest back alley that looked to be abandoned, chiding himself the entire way for letting him fall all over himself for a mere human female, only to let his guard down enough for her to pick his pocket.

Finding the back alley to be empty, aside from an apparently homeless elcor asleep beside a dumpster, he unfastened his assault rifle from its holster on his back. Opening a secret compartment he had years ago installed within the gun's stock, he withdrew a credit chit from within.

The loss of his wallet didn't worry him in a financial sense; in his near paranoia, he had stashed the majority of his chits in a safe in the dingy hotel he had rented here on Omega, as well as kept a few spares in the secret compartments of both his weapons. What bothered him most was the fact that his old C-Sec ID card was still in his wallet. Thankfully, he had been officially kicked out of the force, so the thief wouldn't be able to use his access codes to get anywhere off-limits, but it would be easy enough to swap his picture on the card for one of their own. It would fool most members of the unobservant public.

Sighing in defeat over the fact that nothing could be done unless he managed to track the human down, he replaced his gun in its holster. Credit chit in hand, he returned to the crowded street and made his way to Afterlife. Spirits knew he could use a drink right about now.

Inside the club, he ordered a bottle of servisia; the closest thing turians had to beer. It was considered a drink for lowlifes and scum, and almost every turian he knew back on Palaven would have turned their nose up at the sight of him drinking it. But, this was Omega; _when in Rome_, or so the humans said. Not that he had any idea where this 'Rome' supposedly was.

Sipping his drink, he surveyed the room, taking note of all possible exits, as his C-Sec training told him to do. As he plotted possible escape routes, his eyes came to land on the balcony that looked out over the entire club where a regal looking asari sat.

That asari, he knew from the multitude of files he had on her, was Aria. She was a criminal with a rap sheet long enough to cover the entire floor of her club. The whole reason he had come to Omega was to eliminate individuals like her, yet he couldn't train his weapon's aim on her. She ruled over the vast majority of Omega's mercenary group with an iron fist, and kept them on a relatively short leash. Without her, there would be nothing to rein them in and stop them from going into all-out war for territory on Omega. Without her, it would be anarchy.

The lesser of two evils was to allow her to live. So, he sat back in his chair and continued to drink, leveling a glare at the crooked asari. As if sensing it, she turned to look at him. She held his gaze for a moment before turning around to face away from the floor.

Shrugging the event off, Garrus turned to watch as Omega's patrons comingled, danced, or drooled at the sight of the strippers on the catwalks up above. Eventually, he drained his can of servisia and rose from his seat to leave. He stopped, however, when a second can was plopped down on the table in front of him. Turning to the person who had dropped the can off, he found himself staring at a rather gruff looking batarian.

"Compliments of the house," the batarian growled, tossing a pointed look at Aria's balcony.

Without waiting for a response, the batarian left, leaving a very surprised Garrus Vakarian. Lifting the can up for an examination, he heard a click as something solid inside made contact with the side of the can.

Understanding what this was, he casually opened the can and brought it up to his maw for a sip. He was very pleasantly surprised, when the drink made contact with his tongue, to find the contents of the can to be falerian; a turian wine, highly lauded by Palaven's elite. He himself had never so much as seen the stuff before this point as it was incredibly high priced, but upon his first taste, he could definitely see what the entire hubbub around it was about.

The beverage didn't even taste like alcohol, and easily slid down his gullet, tickling his taste buds with pleasure on the way. So lost was he in enjoying the drink that he almost choked when something much more solid than the falerian made its way into his mouth.

Remembering the object he had heard clinking around beforehand, he discreetly stuffed the item under his tongue before downing the last of the falerian. Silent vacating his table, he made his way to Afterlife's bathrooms and entered an empty stall, making sure to lock the door.

Taking respite in his solitude, Garrus extracted the item in his mouth with his talon. A simple once-over revealed it to be a data transfer chip. Deciding he wanted to examine it as soon as possible, he plugged the device into his omni-tool and loaded up the files. Immediately, his mandibles involuntarily dropped open in surprise at the veritable goldmine he found within.

0-0-0-0-0

Shepard groaned in agony, feeling as if someone had repeatedly smashed boulders across the broadside of his skull. To make things worse, the entire crew in the mess hall seemed to be laughing at his pain. Every little sound of a snicker pounded in his head, making things unbearable.

"Is a hangover really that funny?" he moaned.

"Not in the least," Kalin informed him as she struggled to contain her own tittering.

Abandoning his task of eating breakfast as a lost cause, he rose slowly from his seat and lurched towards his cabin, depositing his bowl of half-eaten oatmeal in a sink of hot water along the way. Trudging to his personal bathroom, he approached the sink to splash some cold water on his face. Peering into the mirror as he switched on the water and let it run in order to cool down, he saw something that gave him a start.

Staring back at him was a reflection of his own face, looking like death that no one had bothered to warm over, complete with a disturbingly detailed black ink drawing of a phallus across his forehead.

As he was trying to wash the doodle off, someone started banging on his door; much to his extreme displeasure.

"Oi! Shepard! I'm coming in! Get decent!" Jack's voice called out, causing the extremely hung-over man to clutch his head in pain. Not waiting for a response, Jack opened his door and waltzed right in.

"You look like shit," she said simply, giving his dishevelled appearance a once-over.

"That happens when you get a hangover," he replied grimly. "How the hell do you not have one? You drank nearly as much as me."

"Biotics," She said simply, conjuring up a miniature warp field in her hand for emphasis, before dispelling it. "My metabolism's about three times faster than yours."

"Hnnn" was the only response he gave as he pushed past her and flopped face first onto his bed.

She gave a snicker at his actions. "Well, I just wanted to let you know we have another target painted. This one comes straight from Aria's Intel. We need to make a relay jump, so it's about eight hours out. Do whatever you need to do to fix that headache of yours in the meantime."

Momentarily ignoring the angry pounding in his skull, Shepard rolled over to face his XO. "What about that last mission?" he asked. "How much paperwork do we have?"

Jack shot him a grin. "None," she said, "That's the joys of being an outlaw. I just had a quick conference call with one of Aria's lieutenants a few minutes ago; that's it."

Grunting in acknowledgement, as he knew he was in for a world of pain if he attempted to nod, Shepard rolled back over with the intent of sleeping for the next eight hours.

"Oh, and Shepard," Jack said, just as she was about to walk out through his door, her eyes lighting on his forehead. "Nice dick."

If Shepard had any energy in him he was willing to expend, he would have hurled something at the tattooed woman's receding form.

0-0-0-0-0

**Note on the naming of things and people in this fic:**

**Turian culture is based heavily on the Romans, so I've had to do a bit of research on the Romans in order to come up with proper names to use.**

**-Servisia is named after cervisia; a type of Roman beer. Just as it is in this fic, cervisia was often considered uncivilized; a beverage for barbarians.**

**-** Falerian is named after falernian; a type of aged Roman wine.

**-The Aternus, the ship that Shepard and Jack are on, is named after the Aternus River (now known as Aterno-Pescara), on the mouth of which, the Roman town of Aternum was situated.**

**As well, for OCs, I've been basing their names off of various works of sci-fi.**

**-Kalin is named after Kallen Kozuki/Stadtfeld from Code Geass**

**-Boli'Vix, the quarian who borrows Tali's omni-tool in the first chapter, is named after Bolovax Vik; the home planet of Green Lantern Kilowog.**

**-As for Tar'Dis, the chief engineer of the Rayya; his namesake should be pretty obvious for any Whovian. (Wibbly wobbly timey wimey).**


End file.
